go away. I’ve just sent a letter to Benedict informing him that I’m done with the Gentleman Courtesans. Lady Thrush will have no leverage once we are wed and I have—”
“Of course you think marriage will be enough to erase this. You aren’t the one people will call a whore if word of this gets out. You aren’t the one people will turn their noses up at and gossip about, even after marriage has made me respectable. I am!”
He threaded both hands into his hair and released an exasperated breath, closing his eyes as if pained. “No one has to know. I’ll do whatever I must to ensure Lady Thrush’s silence. You have to trust me to protect you.”
“And when another of your former clients decides she wants a repeat performance from her favorite courtesan? What then? Am I to spend the rest of my life afraid to leave you alone for fear that any woman of the ton could throw herself at you at any given moment? I don’t even know how many women you’ve serviced, which of them I rub elbows with or know personally! Should I expect more of them to offer to buy your favors for a night?”
Dominick raised his chin, jaw hardening and eyes narrowing. “I refuse to spend the rest of my life apologizing for my past. You accepted me last night knowing what I was, what I’ve done. I’ve told you I’m done with them, and I meant it. What more do you want from me?”
“I cannot believe I let you overwhelm me so utterly that I forgot … I didn’t take into account that I would be forced to look every woman I meet in the eye and wonder how many of them have had you, how many will whisper to their friends that perhaps before our marriage I purchased you, too. I dare not forget about The London Gossip. The moment she figures out who the Gentleman Courtesans are, anyone associated with you will be ruined!”
“That deranged harpy has been shooting in the dark. She knows nothing.”
She scoffed, throwing her hands up. “And there you have it. Your typical arrogance blinds you to how easily you could be found out, with no thought to how it might affect the people you care about. You have no idea what it’s like to know you could become a pariah with nothing more than a single smudge to your good name—not when you have all the privilege in the world to hide behind. Some of us have no such privileges!”
His expression softened by degrees, understanding and compassion radiating from his eyes. When he took her hand, she didn’t fight him. Despite her best efforts, she was still so weak for him, unable to shun him even as she knew she must walk away.
“You are afraid,” he murmured, pulling her closer and lacing his fingers through hers. “I understand that. But we cannot let fear guide our decisions or change our path. I don’t know what will happen or how, but I do know I want to face whatever comes with you. Nothing else matters. I chose to put aside my past and my own reservations because I love you. And you chose me—”
“It was a mistake. I should never have let it happen.”
He shook his head, wrapping his arms around her and yanking her against him. “No. Don’t you dare call what we shared a mistake. It wasn’t some meaningless moment of recklessness. You know that as well as I do.”
She laid her forehead against the center of his chest, soaking in the feel of him, the smell of him, preparing herself to give it all up for good. “I’m sorry Dominick, but I cannot do this.”
His hold tightened, and he lowered his head to seek her lips. “Callie, please … I cannot lose you.”
His mouth brushed hers, and she shivered, felt herself being pulled in again. She gathered what strength she had left, her heart breaking at the pained expression on his face as she reared away, spurning his kiss.
A premonition trickled down her spine, taking her out of the sphere of their solitude and reminding her where they were. She stiffened, eyes darting toward the house—which they stood in full view of. The drapes were thrown open to the sun, several of the panes revealing that they had an audience. Apparently, their quarrel had drawn the attention of her father’s guests, many of whom had seen far too much.